A Running Story
by She Who Shines
Summary: A series of one-shots centered on Rincewind and his darn bad luck. Many thanks to duchess-susan for the title.
1. Bad Luck

**Author's Notes:**** This is the product of me randomly deciding -_ I want to write about Rincewind!_ So enjoy and review please. It'd make me happy!**

Bad luck: something that near everyone has their share of now and then. Still, it is, for the most part, a nasty spice in people's lives that peppers your days. Then it disappears as the light at the end of the tunnel takes hold. There is one person, however, for whom bad luck is _not _a spice. For him, it is the main course, slathered in a sauce of 'mortal doom'. This man is the unluckiest person ever to set foot on the disc.

That's what Rincewind rants to the man beside him at the bar, at least. The other argues that he may be the _luckiest _person ever to set foot on the disc, since he managed to get out of all his scrapes and dangers without _dying_.

"Oh really?" the wizard bit back with an angry glare. "You try living a day in my life and telling me I'm lucky! I've been through more sheer terror in my short time than all the moments of fright of everyone everywhere put together! Death would be a _blessing!_"

YOU THINK SO? I _COULD_ ARRANGE YOUR DEATH RIGHT NOW, IF YOU LIKE, Death put in hopefully, randomly appearing beside him. Rincewind's eyes slowly pivoted to the tall, cloaked figure nervously. He coughed, then turned back to the man beside him.

"Um – " he started, but his companion interrupted him before he had a chance to finish.

"I could kill you, if you like," the blond Assassin replied with a cheerful grin. "If it really _would _be a blessing for you."

SEE? Death pointed out.

Rincewind hated the man in charge of controlling his life.


	2. Wait For It

"Wait for it," Rincewind said, raising a hand.

"Wait for what?" the other replied crossly.

"Just wait," the wizard assured.

It was about then that the door burst from its hinges and a band of five armed men stormed through the empty frame.

The woman's eyes widened.

"How did you know that would happen?" she managed, obviously taken off guard.

"Oh, that's not it yet," Rincewind replied gravely.

The sleek men grinned, revealling dagger-sharp teeth.

"See? VAMPIRES. And, if you'll wait a few more seconds," he whispered, "one of them is going to say 'I'm hungry'."

The woman raised a brow skeptically.

"Vran," the pale vampire in the front said smoothly, never taking his eyes from the wizard as he addressed his comrade through a thick Uberwald-accent. "It zeems ve've come to the right place. I'm hungry; aren't you?"

The woman's eyes widened.

"This is getting creepy, Rincewind," she said lowly.

"And that one, see, the really really scary one," he continued emphatically, "he's going to say that I look delicious."

"STARVING. And ze vizard one looks DELICIOUS."

"How do you know all this?" the woman demanded at last, crossing her arms.

"Oh, easy!" Rincewind replied. "I just imagine the worst possible thing that could possibly happen, and - voila! You've got it. The next few seconds of my life."

"Ah," she observed.

"Exactly. Now give it another second, and this problem will vanish in the face of an even worse one."

One of the vampires called out in pure terror, and Rincewind sighed to see flames licking at his poor house. Fire broke out, crackling and terrible. The wizard decided now would be the proper time to do what he did best - RUN. The other followed him, shaking her head and sighing.

"And I thought _I _had it rough..." Susan Sto-Helit mumbled as she dodged flames and rushed after him.

**Author's Notes:**** Why a wizard looks 'delicious', I'll never know. Just his luck, I guess.**


	3. Degrees of Intensity

Everything has degrees of intensity. Fine, good, great. Morose, grief-stricken, devastated. _Unnerved, afraid, TERRIFIED._  
Rincewind wasn't ever afraid. He was often unnerved. But a whopping sixty-five percent of his life (once the hours spent sleeping were removed) he was unmistakingly terrified.  
Which is why the terms swift, rapid, and high-speed were also of such great importance in his life.


	4. Fearless?

Someone knocked on the door, and Rincewind wasn't expecting anyone.

That meant that it had to be something really really dreadful on the other side.

The wizard opened the door a crack and slowly peaked through.

HELLO, RINCEWIND.

"Hello, Death," he managed, attempting to sound brave. Death cocked his head.

NO SCREAMING? NO QUESTIONS? NO RUNNING OR WITTY REMARKS OR FALSE REASONING AS TO WHY YOU SHOULD LIVE?

"Nope," Rincewind replied. "Would you like some tea?"

Death's blue eyelights turned off and on in shock.

ARE YOU NO LONGER AFRAID ME?

"Well, yes," he answered matter-of-factly. "I've realized that when you're here, it doesn't really mean my time's up. It just means that you THINK it should be. And you're always wrong when it comes to me."

WHAT MAKES YOU SO SURE OF THAT?

"Maybe the fact that I've lost count of how many times I've seen you."

TWO-HUNDRED-EIGHTY-SIX.

"See? I could jump off the deepest pit and something would catch me. I could leap into the mouth of a dragon and it'd spit me out. I could drag myself under the ocean only to be saved by some mermaid or another. Of course, I'd probably end up maimed, beaton, bloody, terrified, humiliated, and other awful things along with it, but I'd still be ALIVE."

YOU REALLY BELIEVE THAT YOU ARE INCAPABLE OF DYING?

"Yep." Rincewind replied surely. "I think it's the multiverse's way of making up for the fact that every other bad thing in existence has already happened to me."

I SEE, THEN. Death observed thoughtfully. When he spoke again, it was in a monotone. BOO.

Rincewind screamed, slammed the door shut, jumped out the back window, landed like a cat, bolted for the stables, paid twice the value of the worst horse there and rode for Lancre.

Death chuckled in amusement.


	5. Friends

Rincewind considers Susan a friend. Susan considers Rincewind a friend. This arrangement may seem odd, since really, they've got absolutely nothing in common. This is something they are both well aware of.

Still, they are friends. Rincewind mostly because Susan listens and is sympathetic (in a dry, raise-your-eyebrows kind of way) to his mesh wire mix-up of a life. Susan mostly because hearing about Rincewind's mesh wire mix-up of a life makes her feel _lucky._

Rincwind knows that there is something different about Susan. Being a wizard, he can feel it in her presence. Of course, being a wizard, he should already know what it is. But do to several missed classes, a vague misunderstanding, a teacher with a thick, impossible to understand accent, and Rincewind's desire to more or less avoid any and all thoughts of Death, he was never taught about her. So now it's a game between them; one that Susan finds utmost amusement in.

"You're not an elf, are you?" he tries desperately, examining her slim figure intently.

Susan choked on her brandy.

"Blazes, no! What'd give you that idea?"

Rincewind shrugged.

"You already told me you're not a vampire. And you said you weren't undead."

"I said sort of. Sort of not undead."

Rincewind took another sip of his drink. Maybe if he got drunk enough all this would start making sense.

He's really thought she'd been a vampire. She is pale enough, dark enough, witty enough... then again, the lack of pointed fangs should be an obvious clue. And she definitely didn't have that vampire HORROR that should lurk around one. Susan was icy, and much, much worse if you got on her bad side.

It was one day that he is, as usual, running for his life (from a hoard of wild boars this time), when Death appears, complete with a black cloak and scythe. Rincewind blinks, squints, then notices Death's face. He sighs in relief when he sees Susan, running beside him as leisurely as she can.

"You frightened me. I thought you were Death."

"RINCEWIND?" she calls in shock. "Oh great..."

"What?" he manages to pant as he dodges a few trees.

Susan takes in a deep breath.

"You're dying. I AM Death."

"No you're not. I've met Death. Lots of times. I've laughed in his face*. YOU'RE not him."

"I am now. Two weeks a year. Death is my grandfather. I've got to take over for him sometimes."

Rincewind stops short, eyes wide and hands flat open. He stares in shock. Susan doesn't show any signs of joking, and he's beginning to worry. But as frightened as he is, a more pressing thought fills his mind.

_Death has a granddaughter, _he thinks. _So he must of had a child... so he must have..._

"How did THAT happen?"

The wild boars pounced. Turns out they just wanted the treat in one of his pockets.

Death vanishes.

Rincewind and Susan's relationship is never really the same again.

*In a nervous, terrified, manner. Not bold boisterous bursts saying 'haha you can't get me'. More like a little squeak saying 'please don't eat me'.


End file.
